Derailment - Chapter 19

As soon as Jiang Xiaoyuan said this, Helen and Little K both looked up, giving her a look that said, “This girl is crazy.”

Little K was stunned for a moment, then laughed, revealing a mouthful of uneven teeth. Halfway through the laugh, she realized she had lost her composure, quickly covered her mouth with her hand, and completed a “graceful smile” with a motion that looked like she was about to vomit.

From shampoo assistant to trainee technician usually takes about a year. The fast learners need at least half a year. Even though trainee technicians mostly do simple tasks, the store has high standards for them.

They must first memorize a whole book of dyeing, perming and cutting techniques for different hairstyles.This process is called “memorizing recipes,” and then they have to take practical tests and try their hands on plastic mannequins.

Young people have good memories and can cram for the “menu,” but the practical part is different. It requires a lot of techniques, and generally require old technicians to guide.

Not to mention that there is not enough time for her to cram at the last minute. Considering Jiang Xiaoyuan’s poor relationships, it was uncertain if anyone would be willing to teach her.

Helen was much more direct than Little K: “I think you should first finish blow-drying your hair.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan was so angry that she pushed back: “Just wait and see.”

She said this harsh word, strode through the store with a domineering look, and returned to her dormitory like a queen. 

Unfortunately, her “queen’s” narrow room was more like a cold palace.

At this time, there was no heating yet. The west wing was cold in winter and hot in summer, and it was filled with a damp and chilly air all year round, even colder than outside. After being alone in the cold palace for twenty minutes, the anger in Her Majesty Jiang’s heart was finally extinguished by the surrounding temperature.

Slowly, she started to come to her senses and regretted her outburst.

Jiang Xiaoyuan thought, why did she get so angry and refuse to accept Qi Lian’s money?

Since she had already accepted the Lighthouse Assistant’s favor once, borrowing his influence again wouldn’t be a big deal, would it?

Thinking of the bold words she had said, Jiang Xiaoyuan felt like covering her face. She couldn’t even afford a piece of autumn-winter clothing, and what was she doing daydreaming about throwing her wallet in people’s faces?

This poor life-loving, face-saving person!

And she had impulsively claimed she would take the exam in front of Helen and Little K. Wasn’t that nonsense?

If she could pass the intern technician exam in such a short time, even a sow could climb a tree

The “queen’s” crown fell to the ground with a “clunk,” shattering into a pile of broken copper and scrap iron.

Jiang Xiaoyuan lay on her back in bed like a piece of mud, staring at the ceiling. She flipped over like a pancake, struggling for a long time between her deep-rooted waste and her immense pride.

In the end, the east wind reluctantly prevailed over the west wind—her pride won.

The words she had spoken were like spilled water that couldn’t be taken back. She had no choice but to go all out: either fight with her back to the wall or wait for others to slap her in the face.

“After all, I have the potential to be a top student,” Jiang Xiaoyuan muttered to herself.

Then she buried her face in the pillow, feeling miserable. “What should I do? I’m letting you down, top student.”

The Lighthouse Assistant had given her his lifelong dream, but Jiang Xiaoyuan still couldn’t find her own path.

Stories always love to talk about the struggle of grassroots people. At the beginning, those protagonists are all good-for-nothing *threads, and in the end, they all become incredible winners in life, making the audience feel great, as if as long as they make up their minds, they can also become ugly ducklings turned into swans.

But if you think about it carefully, isn’t it a very rare thing for a person to live with pursuit and goals?

At least, Jiang Xiaoyuan didn’t have that.

Many people live mediocre lives—choosing a school with the best cost-performance ratio, marry someone who is a good match, buy a house and car that their family can afford, do a job with a similar income, and live like everyone else, muddling through the day during the day and watching TV after work, occasionally reading some chicken soup for the soul to please their mind and body, and just go on like this day after day, year after year.

How many people truly know what they want?

Not to mention whether they can stick with it or not.

Jiang Xiaoyuan wanted to live a life with a theme, like the Lighthouse Assistant, and it made her blood boil to think about it.

Unfortunately, the theme of her life at this stage is only one—poor.

Her heart is higher than the sky, looking down on the world from a high place, with nowhere to rest, but her body is in the mortal world, being despised back and forth by others, with a breath of soaring in her chest, but she can’t find the launch point to soar.

Jiang Xiaoyuan fell asleep in her frustration. She even had a dream that she went to a fashion show and bought all the new products she liked in one go, which relieved her depression in her dream.

When she woke up, she still couldn’t afford a winter coat.

The next day at work, no matter how much Jiang Xiaoyuan wished the previous night’s quarrel with Helen and the others hadn’t happened, the fact was still coldly placed in front of her.

She pushed the door open and entered the store, only to find that the words she had said had not only become spilled water, but had also become a winding ditch on the ground—in just one night, Little K and the others had spread her bragging to the entire hair salon, and everyone looked at her with sympathy and ridicule.

Jiang Xiaoyuan’s fighting spirit, which was exhausted the night before, had to be forced to the front of the line. She cried and sobbed and faced the difficulties head-on, trying to save her self-esteem, which was hanging by a thread.

On that day, Jiang Xiaoyuan did not rest for the whole day, nor did she go back to pretend to read those travel magazines. Whenever she had a free moment, she would eagerly follow Chen Fangzhou, hungrily watching his masterful hands.

Chen Fangzhou initially didn’t notice, but after she blocked his way a few times, he asked in surprise, “Why are you following me instead of working? Don’t you want your performance pay this month?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan was repeating the few actions he used to trim bangs for people in her mind, and her hands were secretly gesturing below, absentmindedly replying, “It’s not enough for a pot of vinegar, so  if you don’t want it, then don’t want it.  Just treat it as an investment in myself.”

Her words amused the customers, and Chen Fangzhou examined her face in the mirror, shook his head, and let her be.

He always felt that this girl had a bit of a delusion disorder, always looking at the world from the perspective of a big shot, showing off her poverty all day long, which was very similar to his chuunibyou period—Boss Chen was like that too at that time. He was clearly a country boy, but he always thought about saving the world, so he was easily fooled into following along, creating a dark history that he could never wash away.

The world is so noble and cold, who needs to save it?

Boss Chen: “You are not serious.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Boss Chen, can I participate in the assessment next month?”

“Sure,” Chen Fangzhou replied immediately, “It’s about participation.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Then if I pass the exam, how much salary will I get?”

Without lifting his head, he replied: “A hundred thousand a month.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Boss Chen, I am serious.”

Chen Fangzhou looked at her with a bad look: “I am also serious—please, go play somewhere else and stop bothering me.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan huffed and walked away, but then she came back with a small notebook. While watching Chen Fangzhou cut hair from the side, she took notes of every action and key point she saw, and even drew some deconstructionist-style illustrations below.

Half a day later, Jiang Xiaoyuan had only washed two heads but had noted seven or eight hairstyles.

Boss Chen finally had a moment of free time and took out her notebook to look at it while drinking water. He was surprised – he first noticed that her handwriting was quite good, not calligraphy of course, but much better than the childish scribbles of those in the store. Then Chen Fangzhou found that her drawings were also not bad. Although Jiang Xiaoyuan graduated from the “Ashtray Department”, she had also studied sketching. Although her level was not very good, it was still quite impressive to ordinary people.

Anyway, in the eyes of Boss Chen, who hadn’t seen much of the world, this notebook was simply a work of art.

Chen Fangzhou: “Are you really going to take the assessment?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “More accurate than a needle tip.”

Chen Fangzhou: “You even reduced your workload for this?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Yes!”

Chen Fangzhou looked at her summer outfit that didn’t look right: “With reduced performance pay, you won’t be able to buy new clothes. What will you do then? Freeze?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan was stubborn and waved her hand, saying: “It’s nothing.”

Chen Fangzhou fell silent. Jiang Xiaoyuan thought he was moved by her determination and was about to bask in the praise.

But instead, he handed back the notebook and said earnestly, “Little sister, Mount Tai wasn’t built in a day, and trains aren’t pushed by hand. I advise you to be more practical and not aim too high.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”

She watched Boss Chen’s back with her eyes fuming and thought: “I have to pass the exam!”

Just like that, Jiang Xiaoyuan began her crazy last-minute cramming. After the store closed at night, Jiang Xiaoyuan didn’t even have time to eat a bite of rice before she hurriedly picked up a plastic model and took it back to study.

In the morning, she no longer slept in and got up early. She hugged a pile of old and worn hairstyle design magazines and recited and memorized them until her head was dizzy, but she still couldn’t remember them.

Jiang Xiaoyuan had no choice but to pick up her sketching skills again. She found a lot of wastepaper in the store and drew them one by one and posted them in her room.

Sometimes she would carefully mark what kind of face shape is suitable for what kind of hairstyle based on her more than 20 years of senior self-conceit.

As for practical training—plastic mannequins are not like wool; their hair doesn’t grow back after you cut it. Secretly taking one home to practice was already quite bold, so there was no way she could actually cut it. Jiang Xiaoyuan had to recall Chen Fangzhou’s movements and clumsily snip in the air with empty scissors.

She drew models, people, Chen Fangzhou’s hands, and the scissors cutting through the air… No one was there to teach her step by step. Boss Chen was busy all day, and the others didn’t interact with her much. Jiang Xiaoyuan could only frantically record all sorts of images and review them at night.

This undoubtedly required a lot of time. Jiang Xiaoyuan used to sleep from midnight to noon, getting a full twelve hours. Now, she had to squeeze her sleep time down to six hours.

She didn’t eat properly, didn’t sleep well, and wore out-of-season clothes. As the weather got colder, even the store’s air conditioning couldn’t help her. Jiang Xiaoyuan had never endured such hardships before. After three days of this, she had heavy dark circles under her eyes, dry lips, and she had lost weight as if she were dehydrated.

On the fourth day, when she opened her eyes in the morning, she felt something was wrong. A sneeze almost dislocated her jaw—she had caught a cold.